


What really happened that night

by Luna_sharp618



Category: BBC Sherlock
Genre: Alternatively what happened in a study in pink under the stairs, Anderson Is a Dick, Kissing, M/M, Mentions of past drug abuse, getting caught in the act, implied sexual activities, sherrlock is an innocent gay virgin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-02
Updated: 2017-08-02
Packaged: 2018-12-10 05:28:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11685039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luna_sharp618/pseuds/Luna_sharp618
Summary: An alternative view on what really happened in the scene under the stairs in a study in pink.





	What really happened that night

"You're the one that invaded Afghanistan"

High pitched giggling filled the small space of the foyer of 221B as both men collapsed back onto the wall. Sherlock still dressed in his immaculate tailored suit and John adorning a soft cream coloured jumper. Out of breath, they smiled like school children that had done laps around the play ground. 

"That wasn't just me" John chimed, his voice raspy from the intake of fresh air. He hadn't ran like that in ages. Feeling the wind trying to desperately push against him, but continuing to prevail. The feel of the blood pumping through his veins. The feeling of being alive! 

John leant his head back against the wall, noting the texture of the wallpaper against the back of his head. This moment was just incredible. Standing beside the most gorgeous mad man he had ever met. He had only known him a day and in that time space he had regained that sense of wanting to live. That sense of being useful to the world. To Sherlock. 

Jesus Christ, it had taken him a day, one bloody day of running around the city to fall in love. It was so weird, it had never been like this with any of those half forgotten names buried at the bottom of a pint glass. This was special, he could feel the pull. It was bloody electrifying. 

Sherlock looked up to catch John's gaze, noticing the subconscious lip lick, he smiled. It was the most dazzling thing john had ever seen. Those Cupid bow lips. Wonderful teeth. The cheek bones, those curls. Jesus this was too much. 

"John?" Sherlock's baritone voice broke his thoughts like a prince braking a long, hazardous curse. John's gaze latched onto those resplendent sapphire blue eyes, his breath quickening and before he could register what he was doing he was leaning in. 

Wait! Stop! Abort! 

He couldn't do this! This was ludicrous. He's only known the man ten seconds and he had already made it spectacularly clear that he isn't interested. 

Great now he looks like a tit, frozen in a half way kiss. His mind raced for something to break the awkwardness that had fallen over them. 

Sherlock's expression never faltered, he just kept watching intensely on what John would do next. Not daring to move less it cause John to move away. Awkwardly the army doctor decided to look to he floor, as if contemplating what fabrics were ingeniously used to create such a pattern. 

But no! This isn't what Sherlock wanted, he's moving away. He's going to shrug it off! No no no. This can't happen. He actually likes this one and hell be dammed if he's going to let this opportunity be passed on. 

Swiftly Sherlock reached up and cupped John's face before surging forward, possibly a little too fast, and kissed him square on the mouth. It was long and awkward, their noses pressed at uncomfortable angles and both to stunned to pull away. So they just stood there like statues, mouths pressed against one another with the most innocent looks of surprise plastered upon there faces. 

Sherlock was first to regain brain function, pulling away from that disaster of a first kiss. Embarrassed they both stared at each other, blush tinting there faces hilarious shades of red. Eyes shifting back and forth between one another, waiting for someone to say something. Anything! 

"I'm sorry I-"

"You want to try that again?" John interrupted, still looking rather sheepish- very fitting due to his choice of wearing a woollen jumper. Sherlock stared for two long seconds before nodding vigorously. 

This time they met in the middle, sharing matching expressions of wariness before there lips met once again. John hummed at the feeling of Sherlock's magnificent plump lips against his. Their hands staying frozen by their sides, too afraid to move incase it should disturb the fragile atmosphere around them. 

All to soon it was over and they exchanged questioning glances. Why was this so awkward! John had snogged plenty of blokes before, he was never this stiff or sweaty. Mentally he wiped his palms against his trousers. 

"That was nice" Sherlock stated quietly, the words obviously just for John's ears. Even though they were completely alone. 

"Yeah......do you want to try.." 

"Again?" Sherlock asked, a little bit too loudly. His voice saturated in hope. He looked so innocent in that moment, like a virgin touched for the very first time- to quote Madonna. 

And who was John to deny him anything? 

Once again they found themselves mouth to mouth except this time, hands began to roam as both became more confident. Sherlock's hands planted themselves on John's shoulders, grounding himself against him. John on the other hand instinctively went if the hips. Squeezing with varying amounts of pressure, looking for the right spot to make the man before him putty in his hands. 

Sherlock's small whimper of surprise is what pulled him from those primal based desires. Quickly John backed away from the kiss. 

"Jesus I'm really sorry, god I'm not normally this forward" he stared, retracting his hands from their anchored position on Sherlock's hips. 

The taller man made an almost inaudible whimper at the loss of contact, his eyes looking so unsure. It was pitiful. 

"I don't mind" he choked out, his gaze fixed upon John's eyes. Silently pleading for more. He needed more. Good lord how he needed more. This was insane, never had he wanted to share another man's embrace than he did with John Watson. "Please" 

That did it. John was completely smitten with this man and needed to take him to bed right now. Instantly, the army doctor was pressing the detective against the wall. Hands tangling in those magnificent curls to pull him into a glorious kiss. Sherlock melted into John's touch instantly, his skin felt like it was on fire and the space in his pants began to grow tighter. 

John must have felt the same because seconds after he was licking his way into Sherlock's mouth. With the most delicious groans John had ever heard, Sherlock opened his mouth to give John the access he most desperately wanted. It was messy and it was uncoordinated but it was the best kiss both of them had ever had. Filled with passion and need and all kinds of other pent up emotions. 

Abruptly they pulled apart for air, gasping like fish out of water their chest's heaved. 

"Bedroom?" John inquired. God this was going fast, he barely knows the man. This can't be happening. 

"Upstairs, past the kitchen" Sherlock answered, out of breath, smiling a most delightful smile. Those tantalising lips. Jesus what would those lips look like stretched wide around his- 

Wait no, don't rush ahead, keep it together Watson. 

After shaking that thought aside he resumed with the task at hand. Kissing the life out of this bloody gorgeous, pompous posh boy. 

Sherlock was also a fast learner and began to join in with using his tongue. Recording and cataloging the best ways to raise the most wonderful noises from John. Turns out he has a very sensitive part behind his left ear that when stroked causes him to groan while involuntary bucking his hips, pressing his arousal harder against Sherlock's pelvis. 

As carefully as possible they took there first step onto the stairs. Trying hard to juggle the constant need to remain contact but also make it up the stairs without breaking their necks. John kept a hand firmly against Sherlock's hip while the other clenched the railing. They're legs messily coordinating to climb every step, something's missing one or two. 

They were getting close now, the bedroom was just a hall way away. So caught up in there haze of nonsensical passion that neither noticed the door opening far too easily when their bodies pushed against it. All they cared about was getting these clothes off and drawing pleasure from one another's bodies. 

The moment Sherlock had set foot inside the door he was being pushed up against the wall. Being assaulted with a barrage of kisses, eyes closed, allowing one another to just feel the carnal desire charged with every sweep of their tongues. 

Sherlock's hands tangled in John's hair tugged slightly, signalling the need for air. John happily retreated only to assault the beguiling canvas of untouched skin with kisses and the occasional nip. Sherlock gasped, his long fingers gripping tighter in the soft blond hair. He needed to open his eyes, he needed to watch this happening. He needed proof that this man was actually providing him with the most basic of care and desire. 

But what he saw when he opened his eyes was not the beautiful scene of John Watson trying to undress him in the private confines of his flat. What he saw was a very stunned Lestrade sitting in his chair. As well as half of Scotland Yard ogling the pair. 

That was definitely a mood killer. 

Sherlock froze, his eyes wide in shock. Sensing the Sherlock's change in mood due to the hands in his hair going very still and everything going very quiet, John pulled away only to see that they weren't alone. Awkwardly john retracted his body from Sherlock, quietly standing beside him whilst trying to will away his still very hopeful erection. 

The whole room was silent, paused in a very awkward stalemate. Everyone shifting glances from the floor to the wall to the half unbuttoned Sherlock standing by the door to Lestrade until going back to the floor again. No one knew quite what to do because when they volunteered to sweep through the posh twat's things they certainly didn't expect him to come crashing through the door, half dressed while partaking in a very wild session of foreplay-and with with a bloke. 

Sherlock felt a whole cacophony of different emotions rise within him: embarrassment, shock, distress, disappointment (mainly because probability dictates he will in fact not be shagged senseless by the very handsome army doctor beside him on this night) but mostly he felt pure, unbridled rage. And the only way he saw fit to release that rage was to let loose. 

"What in gods name are you doing here? What is this?" He screamed as he stormed into the middle of the room to address Lestrade. Trying as quickly as possible to button up his shirt to regain some decency. 

"It's a drugs bust" Greg replied, trying his best to remain calm. His hands gestured around the room to the other officers now continuing what they were doing before john and Sherlock floundered in like a couple of horny teenagers. 

"Oh this is ridiculous, you can't just barge in here!"

"And you can't withhold evidence" 

"Oh for god sakes, I am clean!" He stated loudly, addressing the whole room of officers. 

"The way he was sucking on that guys lip I doubt he's clean of much else" Anderson's voice could be heard quietly amongst the clatter of work near the back of the room. Sherlock physically winced before turning to Greg. 

"Get that unintelligible malformed creature out of my flat before you have to arrest me for braking his nose" Sherlock spat out through gritted teeth, not even turning to bother energy to look at him. 

Greg looked up at Sherlock, seeing the seriousness in his glare.  
"Anderson, go home!" He ordered whilst waving his hand in the direction of the kitchen.

Anderson made a small noise of disgruntlement before placing his empty evidence bag on the counter.  
"Geez, it sounds like someone needs their next fix" he murmured loud enough for mostly everyone to hear. 

"You can't be serious, this guy a drug addict" John inquired, his voice filled with disbelief. 

"John you may want to shut up now" Sherlock whispered into his ear, there shoulders brushing ever so slightly. 

"No" John stated as he looked deeply into those sapphire eyes, in this lightning however they appeared to be more silvery. 

"What?" Sherlock questioned. John stared at him longingly. This man was so beautiful and out of this world it was simply unbelievable. 

"You" 

"Shut up!" He growled, anger filling him because the secret he wanted to keep most hidden from this man was practically painted across the room and there was nothing he could do to cover it up. Stupid sentiment, making him feel things. 

"What freak? Did you not tell you boy toy about your inclination to getting high?" Donovan's demonic voice cut through the air like a knife. 

"Graham, get your officers under control or better yet, why don't you all just get out of my flat entirely" Sherlock snapped, sulking off to a corner of the room to try and occupy himself with his laptop. 

"Alright! If anyone else wants to add any more unsavoury comments I will happily record them in my log book, just in time for inspections next week" Lestrade warned, casting a harsh glare at Donovan for good measure. Every officer when silent before turning away and looking back at the work at hand. Greg grinned to himself at the feeling of the power he just asserted. 

Meanwhile John had slipped over into the corner to try and comfort Sherlock. He edged close to him but not too close, he still isn't too sure how this brilliant unpredictable man would react. 

"You okay?" He asked, trying to divert Sherlock's attention away from the phone so they could hopefully talk about everything. 

"Hmm, yes, fine" Sherlock snipped, not taking his eyes off the screen. 

"It's ok, you know..I.... your past..addictions don't..y'know scare me off" John stammered. Slowly he saw Sherlock's eyes move from the screen until they were staring right into his eyes. 

"...really?" The taller man asked quietly, his face taking up that pure look of innocence once again. It made John's heart flutter, to see him, this man that could so confidently read his whole life story from him, look so unsure. 

"Yes, I've got a bad past too if you've forgotten" he said whilethe corners of his mouth turned upwards to make the tiniest smile.  
"Just as long as your not a psychopath who steals his victims phones, I'm sure I could learn to live with you" 

From that night John would say that the most beautiful part of Sherlock would definitely be the face he makes when he's thinking. He looks so interested in something no one else can see. The functions of his mind can be seen working and working to try and bring sense to his predicament. But John really loves the most is when he has solved his puzzle and will burst forth with his solution, with a smile of utter confidence and pride. 

"THE PHONE! Oh you are brilliant!" He cheered before grasping both sides of John's head and pull him forward for a brief kiss. 

"The what? The phone?" Greg asked from behind them. 

Sherlock surged forward to be in the centre of the room to give forth his solution. John just watched from the sidelines, perfectly content knowing he is going to be very happy living with this mad man in the flat of 221B.


End file.
